


The Grass is always greener

by BabyMilk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 50's AU, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Anal Sex, Cheating, Chris doesn't say much, Dom! Derek, Horses, Infidelity, M/M, Marriage, Restraints, Romance, Running Away, True Love, handy-man Derek, sub! Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:13:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5786479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyMilk/pseuds/BabyMilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is married to the esteemed Chris Argent. <br/>Chris, however, isn't very attentive to poor Stiles' needs, the boy finds the love his needs in the arms of their handy-man, Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grass is always greener

**Author's Note:**

> I generated six random words and created this lil ficlette
> 
> I hope you like it
> 
> enjoy!!

Master Chris has been gone for the afternoon, leaving Derek to take care of the horses and meal planning, catering to his husband Stiles.   
Stiles was much smaller than himself, thinner and much more twig-like, Derek was always worried he may snap the boy in half. 

said boy was, surprisingly, silent; laying across a floral chaise lounge. In between two boney fingers he held a smoldering pipe, a strange scent of ash and lavender emanating from it. Derek scooped up the ashtray sitting on the curved armrest. “Master Stiles.” he says, pulling the boys attention from his book. Stiles smiled at Derek widely, much like a cartoon character Derek often saw on their black and white picture box. 

“hey, bub.” Stiles grinned, the exclusive grin saved only for Derek. “The horses are restless this morning.” Derek continued. Stiles immediately closed his book, careful to dogear his page first. 

Derek and Stiles had an…. arrangement. Chris Argent, Stiles’ husband, was a very cold and distant man. Often he traveled for work, an obvious cheater, using Stiles more like a trophy than a partner. Stiles found comfort in Derek at first, Argent’s handy-man, their relationship evolved from small conversations to lingering touches and longing stares. 

When Stiles felt especially affectionate and his husband was home, they used the excuse ‘the horses are restless’, giving Stiles an excuse to join their handy-man in the stables. “Derek.” Stiles whispered, leaning against the stable wall as Derek fed the clearly calm and content horses. Derek didn’t respond past a grunt, attaching the granola bag to the stallion’s snout. “If I decided to leave… leave Chris, I mean, would you come with me?”   
Derek allowed a pregnant pause to come between them. “Is he hurting you?” Derek asked, occupying his hands by stroking the horse’s hot skin. 

Stiles shook his head rapidly “No, no of course not.” he sighed “I just… I imagine being with you, romantically, and it’s so much better than being cooped up here.” Stiles appeared guilty, avoiding Dereks eyes at all costs. “The grass is always greener, Stiles.” Derek spoke carefully “you need to see what you’re leaving before you make any rash decisions.” 

The look in his masters eyes nearly broke Dereks heart, Stiles appeared as if he’d lost his mother all over again “Does this mean you don’t love me, Derek? Am I just a passing fad for you?” tears spilled down Stiles’ thin cheeks, body rigid as the boy struggled to hold back sobs. 

A white skinned horse huffed in displeasure, pounding his hooves and dancing anxiously to Stiles’ tears.   
Derek approached the boy, careful not to spook him when his larger hand rested against Stiles’ cheek. “I do.” he said “I would bring you the sun if you requested, my lovely Stiles.” Derek rested his forehead against Stiles’ creased warm one, holding the boys face and gently caressing his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.   
Stiles held Dereks wrists gently, breathing Dereks air as he sobbed freely. 

\-- 

Chris Argent had yet to return, the sun beginning to set on the horizon. The bedroom door was bolted shut, a single candle bringing light to the bluish hue the sunset brought to the room. Derek and Stiles had made love before, many times, but always against the wall in the horse stall, air stuffy with sex and the stench of hay.   
Stiles had requested they relate in none other than the Argents marriage bed.   
Derek reluctantly agreed, now watching his lover unlace his night gown.   
Stiles fumbled with the ribbons, face flushed a deep pink his breathing was unsteady and nervous. Once the white garment finally fell to the floor Stiles nearly tripped into Dereks strong arms, ankles wrapped in his dress.   
Derek chuckled, already undressed he guided Stiles carefully onto the soft and cold surface of his wedding bed.   
“Would you marry me?” Stiles whispered, breathing against his lovers mouth as they kissed. Derek didn’t respond right away, occupied with chasing the boys lips whenever they separated. “Derek.” Stiles whined, hand sliding from the mans neck to his ribs and back up. “I would, good god I would.” Derek growled into Stiles’ throat, kissing against the heated skin as he also helped the boys hole open. 

Stiles whined in pain, watching Dereks meaty fingers unravel his hole like a flower blooming, his flushed skin recognizing his lovers hand and unfurling in a welcoming manner. Stiles gripped Dereks hair almost painfully, his lover licking a wide, hot stripe from Stiles’ throat to his ear. 

The bedroom was nearly pitch black by the time Derek withdrew his hand from between Stiles’ legs, a dim golden light by the side of the bed illuminating the couple. Stiles was gripping his dick for what felt like the millionth time, almost immediately swatted away by Dereks hand “Darling.” Derek huffed, caging Stiles’ head with his forearms “if you keep touching yourself I’ll have to punish you.”   
Stiles mewled, positioning his arms above his head “Please.”   
Derek retrieved the sash from Stiles’ discarded nightgown, the white ribbon sliding easily around the boys thin wrists. The iron bedposts heald sturdy against Stiles’ bindings, forcing the boys arms above his head, rendering him vulnerable.   
Stiles’ cheeks burned a deep shade of red, feeling exposed and helpless. “mmmmm.” Derek hummed appreciatively at his lovers sleek body, large hot hands briefly caressed his lovers perky chest before slithering down the boys shivering torso.  
Stiles’ keened, knees sliding together in an effort to conceal how harder his dick had become. Derek growled like a wolf in pleasure, using one hand to slide over the tingling head of his penis. “Do you want me?” Derek asked, skin prickling with sweat. “Yeeeees!” Stiles whined “pleeeaaase!” Derek attempted to spread the boys legs, however Stiles squished his thighs together in retaliation. “sweetheart.” Derek smiled softly “How can I use your sloppy hole when you won’t present to me?”   
Stiles whimpered shyly, releasing himself to allow his dominant lover to spread his legs widely, exposing his eager hole to the world. 

Derek entered him, once again caging his lover with his muscular arms before pushing his way inside. Stiles arched, holding Dereks hips with his knees. Derek fucked him, he was fast and aggressive unlike their usually soft lovemaking. Stiles screamed and writhed against his restraints, the bed rocking unsteadily, the frame occasionally smacking against the wall from the power of Dereks thrusts.   
Stiles cried out with a need to cum, panting against his lovers lips when they parted. “Derek Derek Derek” he chanted, eyes squeezed shut as sparks of pleasure jolted up his spine like lightning. Derek groaned deeply, their sweaty hot torso’s sliding together as he felt his own testicles begin to draw up and tighten with a building orgasm.   
“I can’t, I - “ Stiles whimpered against Dereks stubbled cheek, his own orgasm tearing through his tiny body almost violently, the boy straining in alarming silence, wetness splashing between both of their bellies.   
Derek breathed against Stiles’ sweaty skin, panting heavily when he finally spilled within Stiles. “I love you.” 

\----

Chris finally returned when morning rose, sitting silently with Stiles at their table. “Darling.” Stiles said, setting down his fork with a soft clank. Chris didn’t respond, heavily inspired by whatever was printed on the newspaper.   
Stiles didn’t attempt further, standing from the table to retreat to their bedroom. Unlocking their French doors the boy immediately went in search of his suitcase.


End file.
